Nine Crimes
by Brittanyy
Summary: Nine different chapters, moments, and contemplations between two unlikely individuals; Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. A type of Norse mythology


**Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter or its characters. I don't own the quote below, as I read it somewhere online about Norse mythology. **

"Norse mythology recognized nine realms of existence. Eight of the realms were embodiments of opposites: fire and ice, heaven and hell, creation and destruction, and light and darkness. These realms all converged on the center realm where humans lived out their lives."

**Part 1; Fire**

Her eyes alone had that sense of fire. That sense of burning passion he saw when they fought. They were the color of some amber. As if the wood and fire burning atop it were shrunken down perfectly to the size of her eyes. The only time he saw those peculiar orbs was a short pass by in the corridors, or when her hand shot up to answer one of Snape's many questions during potions.

If that wasn't enough, her hair looked like it had been lit on fire and patted out before it would burn her. The color which he swore changed with her moods, but knew didn't- looked like many different browns coming together, throwing a party on her head. The putrid smell her hair held- he tried to tell himself- was like that of ash. Freshly burned, gray, and dull.

But he couldn't lie, that wasn't even close. Catching a whiff of her hair was like getting a perfect score on one of Snape's assignments. Rare… But utterly worth it. A smell involving different types of fruits he's never even tasted. Fruits he couldn't begin to name. He's never been too close to her. Not lucky enough to inhale something so sweet. It was intoxicating enough from far away, he didn't need to.

She held this personality of one you couldn't find anywhere else. She can be so composed, trying to calm everyone else down around her. Yet if something were to go awry concerning herself; she'd be the first to kick, scream, yell, and throw a five year old tantrum. She had a burning passion for what she did, for what she learned and he couldn't help but admire that. No, he didn't admire it… He despised it. Who could want to have so much passion for something that was so unreachable?

The colors of her damned house even resembled fire in his eyes!

It was ridiculous. This little obsession of his the past few weeks has been driving him mad. He didn't even know why or how any of this started.

There was a day during the start of this seventh year where the castle was unbearably hot throughout. There was nowhere to escape the heat. That intolerable day was a scar in his mind. He sat in potions trying hard to concentrate. Pansy's strokes up his leg were starting to become quite boring. He didn't even take too much of a notice anymore. His days were uneventful and it was only the start of the year.

The heat and tiresome mood reflected in his mood. The day that seems like it was years ago, but only happened to be a mere few weeks. Hermione sat in her chair during potions that awful day, surrounded by Potty and Weasel. Quite honestly he had never taken a second glance at her any day before that, unless it was to ridicule her for her bushy hair - but two things happened at once.

One, her skirt slid quite a ways up her long creamy thighs as she turned and giggled in Weasley's direction.

And two- as this happened he caught a glimpse of her blouse that had seemed to lose a few buttons. There was more smooth skin revealed as the tops of her breasts shook slightly from her giggles.

Never in his life had he seen such beauty, such forbidden fruit, and such _fire_.

Her cheeks had been rosy from the heat, and her hair was slightly damp from all the sweat that it seemed to tame it down. He couldn't believe his eyes. His cock twitched from the sight of her and without his notice, Pansy smirked and moved her hand higher up his leg.

He rolled his eyes and thought of what a silly girl Pansy was... But quickly dismissed that thought. The sight of Granger (still mostly covered up) had turned him on so quickly- and now the only thought in his mind was 'silly boy'.

Weeks later and nothing changed between the two. He tried not to look at her anymore, tried to ignore whatever happened that day and wrote it off as some abnormal hormonal imbalance. That's exactly what it was. What_ that_ was. Whatever _that_ may be…

Merlin he had a lot of nerve. Thinking about the Gryffindor princess in these ways… But he wasn't. He was just pointing out the obvious which was agonizing enough to admit to himself. He hadn't thought of her in any type of sexual way. Hadn't thought of what her thin lips and light pink tongue would feel like softly circling…

And this is exactly what was completely wrong about all his dirty thoughts. It's not like he would ever get the opportunity to be put in a situation like that, so why fantasize over it? He knew he'd like to fuck her senseless then leave her. Her dirty blood deserved it anyways, and he was worthy of his fun…

"Draco!" Blaise said firmly, slightly shoving him. Draco tore his eyes away from the lit fire in the common room to glare at the dark haired man standing before him with wondering eyes.

"Don't touch me like that!" He replied icily. Draco could sense Blaise cringe for a single moment before brushing it off and continuing.

"You've been staring at that fire for the past twenty minutes! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Blaise asked, turned away from Draco now he was gathering his many books and putting on his robes. "We have potions in fifteen minutes…"

"When did you become so worried about getting to class on time?" Draco asked casually standing from his chair to compose himself.

"When seventh year began…"

Quite honestly, potions was the last place on Earth Draco wanted to be right now.

But in the back of his mind he couldn't be more entertained by the thought as he glanced towards the burning fire then followed Blaise out into the corridors.

**XXX**


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